All Rise...

Editor's Note

The Charge

"Innocence dies. Abby doesn't."

Opening Statement

The vampire genre used to be respectable. Before it was taken over by
depressed mallrats, vampire tales were steeped in Eastern European tradition and
gothic lore…or at least involved Wesley Snipes and a bunch of fancy
trade-show swords. After a few years of pop culture soiling, some of the genre's
former glory is returning with the help of Let Me In.

Facts of the Case

In a small housing community in New Mexico, Owen (Kodi Smit-McPhee, The Road) sits alone, spying on his
neighbors from his bedroom window. He's a quiet kid, a little angry and
introverted, with divorced parents and zero friends. That's when Abby (Chloe
Moretz, Kick-Ass) shows up. She's a
mysteriously derelict 12-year-old who's just moved into the apartment next door
with her father (Richard Jenkins, Burn After Reading).

Owen spends his days being tormented by bullies, and his nights awkwardly
getting close to Abby. She's not a very easy person to get to know: Why doesn't
she wear shoes in the snow? What does her father do when he skulks out of the
apartment in the middle of the night carrying empty jugs? Why is she never
outside in the daytime?

Let Me In is a remake of the 2008 Swedish film Let the Right One In, which is based
on the novel by John Ajvide Lindqvist.

The Evidence

Kids don't really get to be kids when it comes to the fantasy genres. They're
wizards, they're superheroes, they're precocious aliens or adventurers, bur
rarely are they just kids dealing with real kidstuff. Let Me In succeeds
as not only being a top-notch horror film, but a real film about mature love and
adolescent bullying.

The film spends a lot of its time meditating quietly on the relationship
between Owen and Abby, a couple of middle schoolers who met on the playground of
their apartment complex. They're perfectly cast—Smit-McPhee and Moretz
trade glances, cautiously try to connect, and eventually fall in love, all
without me ever rolling my eyes and saying "Oh, child actors…" Unlike the
cold, androgynous undertones of the Swedish original (and the novel), director
Matt Reeves's version is decidedly warm and straightforward. Their relationship,
and their sacrifices for one another, is more mature than the adults around
them.

The film isn't all pre-teen mush—take notes, Twilight. Let Me In is legitimately
suspenseful. Richard Jenkins, as Abby's ambiguous caretaker, is largely
responsible for the film's tension early on. In order to provide for his
vampire-daughter, he dawns a garbage bag mask and goes on the hunt for people.
These murder sequences are fairly different from the original, but work better;
Reeves stamps them with his own style, including a continuous-take car wreck
sequence that will drop your jaw. Once the plot escalates beyond the serial
killer stuff, the unnerving realism of Owen's bully problem takes center
stage.

There are plenty of instances in the film where Reeves's vision matches up
almost shot-for-shot with the original, but it's the subtle differences that put
the American version on top—or at least make it more relevant to U.S.
viewers. Specifically, the bullying feels much harsher this time around,
especially during the film's climactic showdown in the swimming pool. The timing
of the film with the rise in social consciousness about bullying makes Owen's
struggles at school scarier than some little vampire girl. Ultimately, it's a
film that both embraces the conventions of the vampire subgenre (sensitivity to
light, thirst for blood, etc.) and pushes them aside for much more relatable,
more effective, horror.

Let Me In eschews most of the cold, desolate Swedishness of the
original for a much warmer (it's still winter, of course) palette. Matt Reeves's
directorial skills are far more impressive here than in Cloverfield. It's not just the absence
of a shaky cam, it's Reeves's framing, unobtrusive CGI, and suggestive violence
that makes the film feel much larger than its indie status. Cinematographer
Greig Fraser deserves some of the credit too. The movie's orange/blue color
scheme is nicely done, and the night scenes have just the right amount of light
to keep the action moody but discernible. It helps that the standard def release
of Let Me In comes with a gorgeous transfer—the edges are sharp,
the colors pop, and the darkness is at just the right level. It's a good looking
movie.

This single-disc release also has an impressive collection of supplements.
There's a commentary track with Reeves, as well as a handful of deleted scenes
with more commentary. More interesting are the behind-the-scenes videos,
covering a general overview of the film and specific digital effects like the
single-take car wreck—the process they used to create that sequence is
impressive, to say the least. The package also comes with a tiny prequel comic
book.

The Rebuttal Witnesses

I'm sure there are many fans of the original 2008 Swedish film that will say
this is just a shot-for-shot American remake. The differences appear minor at
first, but they tweak the theme of the film, and the ending, while technically
the same, resonates better because of them. Really, both films are excellent,
and fans of one should certainly check out the other.

Closing Statement

Let Me In is possibly the best horror film of 2010. It's a well-made,
beautifully acted vampire film with enough visual panache and big ideas to make
it a must see…even for folks sick of bloodsuckers.